48
Weakness….
Weakness clenched Ron's body tightly with trembling digits, tickling his bones, tingling in his innards. How quickly it took hold of him. It was as though aliens abducted him. He didn't know what the hell happened, but it felt like ET gave him the probe from top to bottom.
Sick and wrong… sick - AND WRONG! -
Elbows quivered as he shoved himself up, a little too much as one slapped at his ribs prematurely. His sore back flattened against the ground, throbbing head bounced. Tired eyes saw the sky, not the beautiful dome, but the sky; it glared back down upon him hotly. Fire crackled stridently nearby, all around him.
With triceps flattened against the ground, shaky hands clenched into fists, he punched at the red sky. His belly curled inwardly. The Dome of the Rock slipped up into his view, shifting through the waving red, orange, and yellow curtains.
Somehow he made it outside.
The picturesque sanctuary appeared different somehow. A gaping hole in the wall before him he hadn't ever seen before, a new feature. Tara had driven Sadie through the doors, of course, but that couldn't be the doorway. It was too raw, too awkward to fit an access.
Somehow he had made it outside, and he was sure it was straight through that wall!
The fat bouncer himself lumbered out through that ragged hole, right on time. The ground trembled underneath as that festering zit belly flopped onto it. He lumbered to his feet, those very feet drunken, wobbling, struggling to keep that massive weight upright. Dread's clammy touch strangled his guts, tying them into square knots when the fat-ass looked at him. His crimson gone, lost through the fluttering red veils. Like his disgusting sibling, he rocked his head back.
"GRRRAAAAHHHH!"
Rufus squealed like a stuck pig, shifting around in its cotton burrow.
"YIPE!"
Pain tapped him one behind the eyes while he whipped his head around. The revolver! Where was it—? Ah! There it was behind him, just a little beyond arm's reach. The ground was hard against his side, a little too hard against the ribs when he went for the pistol. It skittered at his touch, meeting itself coming and going against his scrambling fingers.
"WAAAH!"
Over his shoulder, he stole a look. Uzi's plodding steps lumbered him for the closest tree. Monster steroids or not, even a madman had to take a leak now and then, he guessed.
The firm, spongy grip of the pistol eased dread's stranglehold on his innards. Thumbing its release, the cylinder fell smoothly out from the frame. Six slugs were gone, already had emerged hotly into maturity. Cocoons mooned him, a deep dimple punched squarely into each. Brass jangled onto the ground hollowly when he shook them out, a speed loader free from the pocket in the other hand—
—KKRAAK! —
Flat noses traced the brims of the chambers when he shot his head over the shoulder again. Uzi didn't need to take a leak. No, he relinquished the ground of the tree - the WHOLE TREE! Off the ragged ball of twisted, grubby roots, wet clumps of earth crumbled on the ground when the freak gave the tree a shake.
"GRRRAAAAHHHH!"
Uzi threw down his arms - and the tree grew - getting bigger - and BIGGER. The blazing haze could not mask the differentiating shades of green and brown of several branches!
"FUCK!"
Deaf to everything but an explosion of crackling, splintering wood, he leapt out of the way. Severed branches and switches tore at his body, scratched at his face as they spun past. The tree capsized, rolling ablaze, flaming ends taking turns kicking, shaking off embers before the flames consumed it.
With circumstances gone to Hell in a hand basket, he couldn't help but whine.
"THIS IS INSANITY!"
"SECOND!" Rufus… well - seconded.
Ron would have run, but he too knew that he couldn't keep it up. Sooner or later he'd have to fight one way or another. With the others trapped in the sanctuary, and Kimberly…. Dread's nasty touch slipped off his innards at the thought, hard resolve untied those square knots. He'd come too far, seen too much, and too much was at stake to simply cut and run. He couldn't - he wouldn't!
"All right…." He shot that demon behemoth a firm dagger, right between those dull, cloudy eyes. "That does it, you heretic! Does the druggie want to play?"
Drazen heartily replied.
"GRRRAAAAHHHH!"
"Fine." He slapped the cylinder shut. "LET'S PLAY!"
XXX
"Damn it!" Yune cursed at the quagmire of parts before him.
Though it wasn't her fault, Sadie did throw quite a wrench into the Asian's work practically belly flopping on it. Sifting through the crash, questing for the backpack that went AWOL for a couple minutes when he could have disarmed it by now - it was more than aggravating. At least he had managed to pull the core components out simply and smoothly when he found it.
"Yune, calm down." Tara said. "You're going to give yourself an aneurysm!"
"We're going to be dead in a minute, T!" he exclaimed. "That damn crash ate up my time! I CAN'T GET THAT BACK!"
"What the sitch?" Kimberly asked.
"Yes," Mr. Chairman called from over yonder, "what is going on?"
"The -sitch- is it's going to go off!" he poked at that little, black soccer ball thing fixed on a wired mess of a panel. "It started its delay sequence over a minute ago!"
"Great!" she folded her arms. "That's great! Question is - what the hell are we going to DO?"
"I'm not sure about this," he shook his head doubtfully, "but I have an idea. Tara, can I see your nail file?"
"Well, you -can-…!" she shrugged.
"Tara…!" he growled.
"On it." Her hand wiggled deep into her tight pocket. The cloth scrapped back against her knuckles when it came out with that flat, thin sliver of metal. "There…. Here you go, Yune."
"Thanks." It scratched her palm when he snatched it from her grasp.
The file's pointy tip bumped over the undulated surface of that soccer ball. Lifting his wrist, he angled that tip into a seam between two hexagonal panels. With bared, clenched teeth and knuckles drained of tan, the tip sank between the panels with a huff.
"There…." He took in a breath. Glossy beads were no more on his brow, smeared across his brow by the back of his wiping hand. "Hope this works."
Whipping around, he snatched up a large, cumbersome part that pushed his grip to the limit. The other hand secured the flat tool, and that hunk of junk chimed deeply against it like a blacksmith's anvil. Again and again it rang out at Yune's demand, and that file drove in a little deeper. The soccer ball's shape began to warp; deep cries of metal lifting up a dark hexagon.
The junk in his hand lost purpose, rolling, bouncing for the other scraps littering the floor. He wiggled the file to and fro, the hexagon gradually bending to his will. The section parted from the mass far enough, he spun the component around. The file ignored, just another sliver in the mess as he put his fingers to work. Placing the heels of his feet square against the device, his fingers curled around the section. Those arms trembled with tension, muscles flexing beneath the skin—
—"YAH!" —
—And the hexagon snapped off into his hands cleanly like a dead branch. A hexagon of crusty red encroached by ones of black; Smog stared back at her through its missing scale. Though an arrow plunged deep into the ball through there would certainly cause more problems than it would solve. Sorry, Mr. Tolkien!
Yune couldn't care less what she nor anyone else thought when he tossed the piece away. Hoisting the core component into his arms, the hundred-yard dash couldn't begin to explain it as he rushed for the fiery portal.
"YUNE!" Kim shouted - so she didn't have to. "WHAT'RE YOU DOING?"
"What somebody should do!" he called back. "Maybe I do it - now DUCK!"
With a yell, Yune chucked that component into the hungry blaze. It was like a skittle, a dark dot shrinking on hot tongues before the blaze devoured it completely. Yune retreated double time. The lanky man's corpse ignored, her man extended the courtesy to Mr. Abdul-Latif barely as he dragged him by the collar like a sack of coal.
"Behind the rock!" he shouted. "HURRY!"
—FRRAA - BOOOMM! —
She didn't need to be told twice!
A loud explosion - the sanctuary trembled! Dust and particles tapped onto the floor from way on high. As though the greedy dragon was outside, the fire outside took in a breath and blew it into the sanctuary in bright, swirling clouds. She pushed herself to her feet - only to spring off of them like the floor was a diving board.
"HOLY—!"
XXX
POP! -
Red golf ball!
DIE!
XXX
Though rough around the edges, the Noble Rock was noble indeed, sheltering her from the brunt of the dragon's hot breath while few embers made it past. Kimberly too had played it like a diving board, leaping out of the way with relative ease. Yune had practically tossed his load to safety before the devil's breath licked sense back into his brain, tumbling safely behind shelter.
"Lord." the back of her hands swept at her clothes, dusting them off. "Did that kill the artwork or what?"
"I know, Ms. Tara." Mr. Chairman rolled himself supine, pushing himself up to a sit. "The Waqf will make of this a field day."
"And so will the terrorist groups." Yune smoothed the hair on the back of his head. "If Drazen doesn't destroy this region, they sure as hell will!"
"Not if I have anything to say about it." The chairman shook his head gently. "Though there is always reason to fight, stooping to terrorism is not the answer. It never was, never is, and never will be. If the monster outside doesn't kill us first, I will at least devote my tenure to disbanding them."
Kimberly nodded gently, stumbling behind the rock, out of sight just as she put the strength back in her feet.
"Do you mean it?" Yune folded his arms.
"Most pertinent question, I know." Mr. Abdul-Latif closed his eyes. "Unless your girlfriend is deaf, I suggest that you ask her for the details. I have done enough talking for one day. All I wish to do now is get some rest."
"Yeah." Yune nodded back. "Okay."
"Yune?" she asked. "That explosion. Shouldn't we be talking with St. Peter by now?"
"I guess Heaven isn't ready for us yet, T." he replied.
"But why?" she pressed gently. "Why didn't it go nuclear?"
"I'm not sure how it works exactly, but it had something to do with those panels." He explained - rather - did his best. "I know that in order to achieve nuclear detonation, it must require all of those panels intact. Triggering of the detonation charge without all the panels is just that, an explosion. Besides, I watched George Clooney do that on 'The Peacemaker'."
"WHAT?" she blinked. "You defused a nuke and a third world war from a movie?"
"Yep." He nodded confidently. "And it worked! Providence hangs in the air quite often, right?"
Her fist found his pectoral firmly. Yune wisely eased back a step.
"Sick - and - WRONG!" she yelled. "Sick - and - WRONG! Like two boys goosing in Hell – it's just sick - AND WRONG!"
Her man's face twisted disgustfully.
"Yuck, T!" he clicked his tongue as though it was soured. "Lord… where did you hear that…?"
"Not sure." She put a finger to her chin thoughtfully. "Mr. Barkin, I think. The master of obscenities young ears hadn't heard before. If language were a needle and cursing were thread, I bet you that man can weave a tapestry big enough for Middleton High's gym!"
"Being a Vietnam jarhead will do it to you." He gagged. "Blah…!"
He shook his head but he stopped in mid shake, staring quizzically at the boulder - no - past the boulder.
"Kimberly?" he said. "What're you doing?"
"The nuclear threat is finally gone, true." The girl replied. "But there's still one last job to do."
Her legs took their time carrying her around the boulder. Kimberly was at a knee by the ordinance pile, intact as though fire hadn't blown inside the sanctuary at all. The machine gun and brass chains ignored. The rocket launcher was laid parallel to the girl, its muzzle empty not for long with a blunt, dull green spear in her hand.
"Shouldn't you leave Drazen to Ron, Kim?" she asked. "He said he could—"
"No he can't, Tara!" the red mane whipped away when its owner shot her a look, neither soft nor hard, just… a look. "You've seen what he did to Robin single handedly! And you honestly think Ron can take that freak on by himself?"
A sigh.
"No…." she replied. "You're right…."
"I -am- right." Gently with flattened fingers, Kim rolled that spear into the muzzle as far as it would go. "Ron maybe my best friend, but he's more than that now. Drazen's going to destroy that which I've finally come to love. I can't have that - not on my watch!"
"Peace goes with you, Ms. Possible." Mr. Chairman said.
"Peace…" Kim rose to her feet, hoisting the launcher to her shoulder, "is between Drazen and God. For some reason, God endowed me with the task to arrange the meeting."
The girl put a foot forward - her let went crook too soon, nearly taking the rest of her with it. A free hand shot out, flattening against the round, trembling to keep her upright. A growl lodged in her craw, she forced her leg straight, forcing herself up as she put her other foot forward - only to drop again. It went on for another couple of minutes.
"Too weak…." Kim dropped to her knee, breathing shallowly. "Please… help me…."
A warm smile tugged at her lips.
"Thought you'd never ask, Kim."
XXX
Platinum Christmas tree…!
DIE…!
XXX
FRRAA – BOOOM! –
A thunderous explosion - the flames by the sanctuary hastily angled away before the very heat carried them back upright. Whether a true explosion or a wet fart from his playmate's fat ass, Ronald wasn't in the shape to tell. A few minutes with Drazen was great exercise: dodging red bushels, ducking beneath crackling trees, and weaving past anything else the freak got his hands around. Yet he'd be happy if he never had to go through it again.
A few minutes hopping around the inferno, the southeastern corner never felt so cool… or so constrictive. The blazing walls behind and a steep precipice ahead, Drazen took a pale knee by the eastern wall. He looked bleak, his color drained from the slick belly onto the ground in a crimson pool. His stained bite as worse as his bark, breathing in haggardly, polluted by the red sky. Déjà vu!
The six fresh slugs were gone already, burying in uselessly into their target like botflies. Still he kept an eye on the madman through the steel sights. Cautious feet took turns in front of each other, moving him closer.
"Grraa…!" the overripe zit mumbled. "Rraaah…."
"Mumble all you want, Drazen." He frowned. "The party's over for you!"
"Rah…." Red-slicked eyelids fluttered back.
"Uzi, I don't know what's going through that thick skull of yours and I don't care!" he said sternly. "I'm not going to kill you. You're not getting off that easy. That seems to be impossible, anyway. Just give up."
"Rah…!" bloodied lips curled into a quivering sneer. "RAH!"
"Your men abandoned you," he continued, "left you for dead. Your last you killed yourself. And unless we're in limbo right now, I think it's safe to say that my friends took care of your bomb. You're out of moves - checkmate! You lost, Drazen. Just admit it!"
"Grraaah…!" his supporting hand jumped, clenched into a fist just as gravity took over again. "RAAHH!"
Ron was pissing him off; not exactly the smartest move. Yet dripping like a leaky packet of Diablo Sauce, Drazen didn't have much time. If only he were that lucky.
"Fine…." He sighed. "Be that way. Know this! If you don't put this -demonic- rage behind you, you won't survive long."
"RAAHH!" the strange brow furrowed.
"Hell, why should I even bother?" he asked rhetorically. "You're Mr. Death, after all! You're probably the Grim Reaper's lover, not that the Grim Reaper had anything to give you the business with. Except maybe the scythe, but… ouch! Then again, maybe you like that - I don't know! I don't even care anymore. I just hope when you're in solitary for the rest of your life that you find God before He finds you—!"
That hand swept out from under the behemoth - his nose scrunched, lips practically paralyzed against the swollen palm. Through the enraged madness circulating in that brain, Drazen had the clarity to snatch him by the head. Not even swathe of the tongue would send that monster reeling.
He wasn't that lucky after all.
"GRRRAAAAHHHH!"
The ground slipped out from under him while his head fell back—!
PAIN! It snatched onto the back of his brain like a bear trap - hot, burning, gnawing, and chewing pain! He couldn't breathe, couldn't lift his arms even to pick! His body left useless, a rag-doll when pain swallowed what strength he had left. His lungs struggled against his ribs, pushing their way a little closer to the surface each time.
Everything should have gotten blurry if he actually had something to see.
Can't… BREATHE! -
"GRRAAH!" the monster roared. "GRRRAAAAHHHH!"
So this was how it ends? No monster zombie snowmen? No giant, mutant wiener-dogs like Mr. Barkin predicted? Guess not. Simply strangled by whinny nihilist high on steroids: that was what either God or fate had for him. Strange, it really was. Compared to other exploits past, this would be so… anticlimactic—
—"Leave him - ALONE!" his ears managed to catch. —
—Or not.
Out from behind him came an -FWOOM- - a stern hiss, vacant and hoarse, hissing over him like a rocket—!
His nose bounced back, air blew into his nose that he gladly took in. His lips were free, mouth taking in more of the thick, noxious, and so very sweet air he'd quickly come to miss. Eyes batted open in the light, he winced. When his irises focused it to a tolerable level, the red sky didn't seem to glare down upon him as harshly.
"Ah…." He took in another whiff as his abs yanked him up. His hand swept over the back of his head. Nothing broken, nothing flattened though the bone was tender to the touch. "Oh…! Who the hell…?"
Slowly, he turned his head around… and there was Kim, taking to a tired knee with the RPG-7 in hand. Everybody's favorite couple tended to her. Yune relieved her of the launcher while his girl eased Kim to the ground.
"You did good, Kim." Tara said. "Take it easy."
He twisted himself back around, letting his natural range of motion carry him back to neutral. There the fat madman was, his bloody mouth agape, jaw shivering at the loss of growls. The rocket grenade found itself deep within its target. Thin fins were like an X on his red-slicked belly, the dark hole at its hub staring back at him darkly, exhaling a wisp of light gray.
"Which I could say the same, T!" Yune exclaimed. "Ron - get away from him!"
"The round…." Kim breathed. "It's a dud…?"
"Can't take a chance." Yune replied. "Come on, Ron!"
"Coming!"
Too weak to stand, he dragged his butt - actually dragged his butt over towards them like he had a case of parasites. He felt like a canine! Then again, what else was to be expected from the Middleton High Mad Dog? At least he didn't lose his bladder on the Temple Mount, though that would show the anal Waqf a thing or two!
"He-huh!" Rufus sniggered. "Bark!"
XXX
Pop bottle rocket…. POP-BOTTLE ROCKET?
Tan pigskin!
Not afraid of rocket!
WHO'S AFRAID OF A POP-BOTTLE ROCKET?
XXX
"Is it over…?" Kim asked.
Tara's eyes looked cloudy, dots of aquamarine almost lost on the beds of white. A weak limb brought up a straight finger.
"Don't think so!" the blonde pointed.
Eyeing the invisible line the girl had made, her eyes wandered on that line over – and wished she'd stop an inch beyond the fingertip.
Fat Drazen was still standing - the team as her witness that fat ass was still standing! The crimsoned swollen limbs shot for the X at his belly, pudgy hands obscured hardly by the fins. Quivering jaw clenched, bared enamel grinding against each other furiously. The bottom of that volatile spear peeked at her as Drazen gradually 'coaxed' it back out.
"Now what?" Tara yelped. "Not even an RPG could it! We're DONE FOR!"
Yune sighed dejectedly; letting his legs fold in, lowering him to a tailor position.
"We're too far from the sanctuary." The Asian closed his eyes. "And the wind's about to pick up. No escape…."
"Shit…!" her curse weak as her fist, fingers flattening, uncurling against the unmoving ground. "Of all the rockets, I had to choose the dud! I should have taken more grenades! We were so close - this isn't fair…!"
"So this really is it, eh?" Ron replied. A scrape and shifting of cloths, she could feel his firm back press against her side. "Well Kim, just before we go…"
"Yeah, Ron…?" she asked. "What's up?"
"Well… I just want you to know that you were great, Kim." His reply was as warm as his body. She could feel his heat radiate through her shirt into her. "Thanks…."
Her lids felt wet; poignant sighs lodged in her throat.
"Ron…!" she sniffed. Her arms went around his cushy trunk firmly, pulling him closer. Her chest tickled when one of his hands cupped around her forearm, his palm clammy yet… warm.
"Shhh." He cooed. "It's okay. There's no need for sorrow, KP. Don't cry. Don't be sad."
"Why's that…?" a drop of wetness escaped her lid.
"Should the Lord be gracious, we will be in Heaven together." Ron replied softly. "Happiness abounds as we praise the Lord, and forever we can be in eternity together and with others lost to us over the years - I hope. What a wonderful time we'll have together, KP. You'll see."
"He's right, Kim." Tara said. "Hopefully, Yune and I will see you there. Sure, I'm scared. Have hardly been this frightened before! Yet when I die, I will be with the Lord just like Robin is now. I'll know happiness like no other, and Yune will be with me like Ron will be with you."
"It's still not fair." she sniffed. "I wanted to grow old! I wanted to have children - and grandchildren! Just like everyone else on this planet. Was it too much to ask…? I come to grips with our relationship, and what do I find but to know it was too late. We're going to die… just like the rest of this world. We failed… and so did I."
"So what now?" Ron asked. "Give up?"
"No." her arms flopped off him as she eased herself away. "Far from it. If we go down today, we're going down fighting! One way or another!"
"Amen." Ron replied - a peck on the cheek. "So, you ready to do this?"
"Yeah." Gradually her legs pushed her upright. Tara gave her hand, easing her ascent. "Take him down!"
"As always," her heart tingled hotly like poking needles when those squared fingers laced with her own, "I'd tag team with you any day, KP."
"We're with you, guys!" Tara nodded with a bright smile. "Isn't that right, Yune."
"Pointless to argue really, T." Yune unfolded his legs, pushing himself back up. "Women typically are right, after all."
"Ah… you're learning!" she grinned brightly.
"Maybe right one percent of the time," he smirked back, "but I'm so damn proud of my one percent!"
"Damn straight!" Ron nodded.
With the slight reprieve, Drazen struggled still with the dull green spear. Though hidden by clasped, pudgy hands, its stem was clear to her. Amazing really. Mysterious green goop did a body wonders, even with a hole in the belly the size of a saucer.
"This is the end, people!" Ron exclaimed. "I don't know what we're going to do and I don't care! Let's just wing it!"
"Ha!" She smiled weakly. "William Wallace, you're not!"
"Huh-ha-ha-ha…!" his little buddy laughed. "True dat!"
"Forgive me, I was out of blue face paint!" he frowned. "Come on!"
The end, this was. Without the rocket lodged in the gut, it was still a battle to the very end - authentic, violent, with crimson staining the ground more than an abattoir. Chivalry was dead. Nobility was a ghost, nowhere to be found on the arena… just like times past. There was no honor in any of this.
"We, who are about to die…" -
"God…." She mouthed quietly. "Jesus - save us—!"
A flash of light - the fat ass's hands jumped off the stem as though it grew hot! Out from the dark hole of the green X sputtered a flare of sparks, gleaming hotly, pouring to the ground like a glowing waterfall. Milky white smoke fumed from the hole, clouding to the sky. Drazen hacked and wheezed like a dying animal - taken back a plodding step when the sparks blasted out of the muzzle in a sizzling gale!
"No way…!" she blinked.
The Lord… heard her…? Did the Most High actually hear her? He must have! God had heard her - His Son actually heard her! Her knees wobbled, feet struggled to keep her upright when a chill ran up the length of her back - pins-and-needles all over! The tingling around the circumference pierced deeper, tickling her throughout.
Yet it felt so warm.
"GRRRAAAAHHHH—!"
God had heard her! Jesus had answered her - a flash, thundering blast, and a consuming reddish smoke that enveloped Drazen completely! The sky swept underneath her, her blackened shoes standing on the dark clouds while her abs crunched inwardly. —The ground pressed against her backside as firm as ever. Only a moment later did she realize what had happened.
The grenade wasn't a dud after all!
The shower was crimson, blood raining seemingly from the sky, dappling the ground. Peach skin with red polka dots, on her body a warm and sticky coat. Tiny splashes quelled the ringing, as did the wind blowing in her ears. The fresh breeze was welcome relief, cool and refreshing on her clammy flesh. The dark cloud before her swirled and churned, thick swirls carried away to dissipation, chased by the wind.
The breeze blew off a dark twirl at the ground—
—The red sheens of a combat boot and a steel peg gleamed back at her dimly.
Kim felt a tick come on, tugging intermittently at an eyelid.
"How the hell—?"
A black swathed knee and a hinge hit the ground, the smoke parted as the rest of the body crumpled over by it own weight—
—"Holy…!" Ron gasped. —
—Rather - lack thereof! Air parted the rest of the dark plumes, swallowing it all up as the last foggy speck simply faded away. Drazen's better half was missing in action, a hint of it but a bony, flaccid flap arcing over his severed waist. Blood slapped the leg and peg a thick coat, spilling, pooling on the cobbled ground from the -raw- waistline.
"Wait…!" it came out of Tara like a gag. "What's that?"
She looked - and Drazen was there, up in the sky, plummeting to earth like a stone! Crimson a thin line, a fleeting trace to his presence while limbs flailed aimlessly about like baby chick. The eastern wall was upon him suddenly - and he disappeared in an explosion of cracking, splintering wood, rattling and jangling pipe.
"WAHH—!"
He screamed no more, cut off by a hard -Kerr - PLOP-! She cringed, her belly churned sourly. Bitter sickness overwhelmed her, buckling knees dragged the rest of her to the ground. What little lunch she had gingerly worked its way up her tight, quivering throat.
"Aw - MAN—!"
Pungent acid fresh on her tongue, she lost it on the cobbled ground.
"Kim." Ron dropped to her side. "I'll look for Drazen down there. You've done enough already. Just stay with these guys and take it easy."
"Yeah…" her breath shallow, lungs straining for more, "okay…."
"What about us?" Tara asked. "What should we do?"
"Strangely enough, the flames are finally dying down." Ron lifted himself up and away. "I think you can make it back to the sanctuary safely. While I'm on my way down there, take Kim back to the Dome, check up on Mr. Chairman, whatever…. The sooner the better."
"Why's that?" the girl inquired. "Is something bad going to happen?"
"Unless the explosion popped your eardrums, I bet you've heard it too." Her man replied. "Pipes rattling, wood breaking. Sounds like Uzi's trip took out the wall's scaffolding. They needed it to keep the new bulge in check! Stress from the RPG probably made this whole section unstable!"
"And they thought turning King Solomon's Stables into a mosque was a good idea…!" Yune mused dryly. "My ass!"
"This place could collapse any minute." Ron pressed. "Just get back to the sanctuary. You should be safe if it really comes down."
"Okay, Ronald." Yune said. "If this is what you want."
"It -is- what I want." Her man asserted. "Now go."
"Right."
Yune's firm hands took to her arms, hoisting her up to her shaky feet. Tara's soft palms warm on her back, moving her, directing her onward as though a guide. Her stomach churned sickly, her throat quivered in its tightness, still she managed to inch the corners of her lips to a smile, weak as it was.
It was a long time coming, but time spent wisely simply hearing the results.
Welcome to adulthood, Ron…. -
She lost it again.
"Aw - Kim!" Tara cringed through her fingers. "My Keds!"
A sheepish smile was her reply.
"Sorry…!"